previous entry: "George Stinson: The San Francisco Opera's Singing Cop, pt. 2" (February 14, 2023)
He sang his premier San Francisco Opera performance on October 21, 1939 with thirty of his friends from the California Highway patrol to root for him. Stinson noted how his real world experience had prepared him for that moment.
I'm going to sing it the way it really is. I've seen life as a cop. I've seen people attempt suicide and commit murder. I've eaten at those those dumps along skid row when I worked the Bridge.
His voice is extremely large and powerful, fresh and youthful in its clarion ring, and a splendid vehicle for the passionate unrestraint of Canio's woes, lamentations, and vengeful resolutions. He lacks stage experience, and no man on peaceful earth had better reason to be nervous, but he carried his assignment through to an ovation richly deserved.
...most resounding success a new local artist has ever won with the San Francisco Opera Company... Nature has endowed Stinson with the sort of dramatic tenor voice that impresarios dream of dream of. It is powerful, brilliant, broad of range. It has thrilling top tones. It is a voice with intrinsic emotional content.
Stinson appears to be on his way up to the heights. He is gifted with a robust tenor voice of golden quality which Merola says has more the Caruso timber [sic] than any who has ever aspired to the Caruso mantle. It has a Martinellian clarity and a lower range of barytone [sic] brilliance.
He reprised this role in a second performance on October 31, 1939.
In the mean time he found steady work performing in the community, notably a dozen appearances at the Golden Gate International Exposition. He later revealed that he made pretty good money performing--500 dollars for each opera performance (equivalent to over $10,000 today) and 200 dollars for each appearance at the Exposition. Now fondly known as "San Francisco's famous singing cop" he also performed at a number of wartime benefits. He even sang at baseball legend Joe DiMaggio's first wedding.
The following season the San Francisco Opera announced that George Stinson would star as Radames, the captain of the Egyptian guard, in Giuseppe Verdi's Aida during their 1940 season. However, it was announced at performance time that he would bow out of the first October 31 performance due to illness. As Herb Caen first reported:
Over-rehearsed George Stinson, "the singing cop," came up with a sore throat Wed. night and couldn't sing the lead in "Aida"--so short, bespeckled Frederick Jagel was imported by plane from the East to fill the gap.
He later updated his reporting. Jagel was actually already performing in California, which Caen suspected was more than coincidence. He emphasized that Stinson did not have a sore throat, nor was he over-rehearsed.
The reason for the whole mixup--and this is very much on the inside-- reportedly was Mme. [Elisabeth] Rethberg, who didn't feel up to the chore of singing "Aida" opposite a "new" singer. This despite the fact that in dress rehearsal, only Stinson had given a perfect performance.
Dear Herb: I've noticed articles in the paper regarding my return to the Highway Patrol, which are O.K. except for the quote attributed to me, that 'I don't go much for these kissing foreigners.' Can you help me correct this story? I am sure I don't know what is meant by kissing foreigners, and I certainly did not make such a statement. I have many friends who were not born in this country but who, I'm sure, would think badly of me and Americans if this mistake were left uncorrected.However, Stinson after his return from his studies in Europe was quoted by an Orange County newspaper as remarking that "In Italy... men think nothing of kissing one another on the mouth." His outlook reflects more culture shock than actual xenophobia. The glamorous world of the stage was very different from other workplaces that Stinson had known like the military and the highway patrol. Years later, he also remarked that the operatic world was too cutthroat for him.
When you're out on a job with some other cops, you know you can count on them to be behind you. But when you're out there on the opera stage, some of them other stars are hoping you'll croak.But at heart, he may have left opera simply, as Herb Caen later put it, because "he wasn't of major league operatic caliber, and nobody knew better than he (an honest guy)."
After the war he returned to the California Highway Patrol to work for his pension. He was stationed in the Sacramento area and gave occasional performances. The last newspaper notice is for a singing appearance in Placerville in 1952.
Even though George Stinson's operatic career did not amount to a great deal, it is clear that he was blessed with a beautiful, strong voice. He also showed great perseverance and a love of opera to advance as far as he did. More than a decade after giving up opera he confided with journalist Bernard Taper that:
I'm singing better than ever now. I don't know what's happening to me. The voice is getting smoother, but it's still got its old robust quality, too. I'm singing them high C's like never done before, without any effort. My breath control is better now, too. Like I said, I've been meditating. And all of a sudden one evening, it came on me what my teacher in Italy meant when he kept telling me to breath for singing like you do for speaking, the same naturalness.George Stinson died in Yountville, California on April 2, 1973.
Bibliography:
Caen, Herb, "I'll Always Remember," San Francisco Examiner April 9, 1950
"Hunters Point Project Dedication Sunday," San Francisco Chronicle October 20, 1943.
Fried, Alexander, "Sayao, Schipa Win Acclaim with 'Manon'," San Francisco Examiner November 2, 1940
"Placerville Rotary Aids Charter Day for Jackson Club," Placerville Mountain Democrat May 15, 1952.
Taper, Bernard, "Since Then: Ex-Singing Cop Is Still a Cop--But with Fewer Worries," San Francisco Chronicle January 14, 1951.